Sometimes You Do Get a Tomorrow
by deemarie
Summary: Harry Potter looks back on the past seventeen years' trials and tribulations. Does he, even now, have a life of his own? My very first story!
1. Default Chapter

Sometimes You Do Get a Tomorrow.

By Deemarie

Disclaimer: I own nothing of this story, except A.J. and Lisette Valjean. 

Author's Note: My very first story so if you don't burn me alive in flames that'd be appreciated. Constructive criticism is cool though. I'm not entirely sure of the timeline either.

They all think I'm crazy. They all think I'm a coward and maybe they're right. After all, that night seventeen years ago I did run. However, it's not what you think. I wasn't scared to face Voldemort. It was a job that needed doing and I could do it. I knew that.

I was lost. My life from age eleven centered on one thing. Destroy Voldemort. I was nineteen years old and had let my world shape me to its image. I was Harry Potter, THE BOY WHO LIVED, not Harry Potter that kid who dated Padma Patil for a while and strangely enough had really had started enjoying potions over the years. Sure people knew these things but didn't think about them. I didn't know what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I knew what they thought I should do. Become an auror, a quidditch player, the new DADA professor or even just live off my parents' money.

Therefore, I left. I took the bike Sirius had left me when he died and left. A road trip like in the muggle movies. Or to be more exact, a road life.

I worked at odd jobs here and there, mostly in Europe. Figured it'd be too easy to run into someone I knew in the U.K. I decided finally that I could be a bartender happily. Just like potions class, you mix a little of this and that and end up with something totally new. 

So I was content. I was fluent in French and German and I could get by in Norwegian, Italian, and Spanish. I could find work in almost any bar anywhere. 

Then my life turned upside down. Lisette Valjean walked into a little bar outside of Paris when I was twenty-three and she was twenty. A little petite girl with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. I bought her a drink and that was that. We got married by a judge three days later.

We settled down, I got a bartending job in Marseilles and she worked in a café.

I had never been so happy in my life. I can't begin to describe Lisette. She was the most cheery person I knew. But she wasn't Pollyanna naive about it either. My Lisette had been around the block and decided it was better not to let life bring you down.

I never thought it would be possible to be happier but one day it happened. Lisette told me that she was pregnant after a year and a half of marriage. I was a little worried because Lisette was diabetic, but she didn't let it phase her. The nine months flew by. We bought a crib and spent three days trying to put it together. We thought of names. Lisette wanted to call a boy Peter. It took her a while to understand that there was no way I would call my son that. She hated my name for a girl. So I like the name Hedwig ok? We finally made a deal where I named boys and she named girls.

Lisette struggled through seventeen hours of labor but finally brought our little boy into the world. But before I could name him a doctor came in looking concerned. He said that the pregnancy damaged Lisette and that we should not have any more children. That threw me for a loop. In fact, I didn't even name my son Joseph like I was going to. I thought of who I really wanted to remember and honor by this name. I had to name him Albus James Ronald Sirius Remus Ruebus Potter. Lisette just shook her head. We called him A.J.

Eventually I told Lisette about the magic. She just smiled and said that she knew my hair couldn't be normal. A.J. was the most perfect boy. My wild hair only Lisette's brown color and my mother's eyes.

Then one day when A.J. was two and a half Lisette got hurt. She had a diabetic reaction when driving and ended up plowing into a brick building. She died on impact.


	2. A New Life

I would've died except for A.J. I couldn't let him go live with Dudley Dursley and his wife Val. They were worse magic haters than Vernon and Petunia. 

So eight and a half years went by. When A.J. was seven we moved to Liverpool because I could buy a bar for cheap. We lived o.k. I took him to the zoo, movies. He had friends. Then an owl flew in with a letter addressed to Mr. Albus J. R. S. R. R. Potter.

I had never told A.J. about Hogwarts. What could I say? Oh, by the way there's a different world out there that thinks your old man is crazy. So I just shrugged off his blowing up of slugs and when he set his substitute teacher's briefcase on fire.

It took a while but I finally got him to understand. I didn't mention that I was a wizard I just took him shopping. We did the whole bit, even went to my Gringotts vault. I was wearing a hat to hide the scar. Moreover, my hair had been white since Lisette's accident. But when we got to Ollivander's I sent A.J. in alone.

He came out bringing a nine-inch rowan and dragon heartstring wand and questions.

"Papa, Papa" he cried to me, "Mr. Ollivander knew my last name but not my first names and when I told him he said that was interesting and he said so he's not dead! What's up? I thought Maman was a witch, were you a wizard?"

I had to answer this time, "No, your maman was a Muggle. I was once a wizard. Shall we get some dinner?"

A.J. looked downcast but realized that I was trying to change the subject so he agreed and we walked to The Leaky Cauldron. After a good dinner of steak and kidney pie A.J. and I realized that we couldn't make it home that night and so we decided to get a room.

After A.J. was safely in bed I walked downstairs for a bit of a drink. I had ordered a Butterbeer (not exactly sophisticated I know but I hadn't had one in seventeen years) when Tom the bartender decided to make conversation. 

"This your first time in the Cauldron then?" he asked me.

I hesitated and then decided on a white lie, "Yes, you could say that," I answered.

"Well, then. You should look at the Memorial wall. It's right outside, where you'd go to enter Diagon Alley," he informed me.

I shrugged, put my sickle down and headed out the back way. There was the brick courtyard. Nothing had changed until I turned to the right. Instead of the dingy bricks there were slightly glowing names and dates. Across the top in brightly written letters were the words "A Memorial Wall to all those who gave their lives in fighting Voldemort and his Deatheaters." There were so many names I knew. Sirius Black, Charlie Weasley, Cedric Diggory, the Longbottoms, my parents. Then I looked in the center. One said "Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. 1986-2005." I was confused, and then it hit me. They all thought I was dead! No wonder they hadn't looked for me. I shook my head in amusement and headed upstairs.

The very next day I sent A.J. off on the Hogwarts Express. I told him to study hard, have fun and make his maman proud. Then I walked away before he could see me cry. 

Then today, three days later, in my empty apartment above my bar three owls flew in the window. To my surprise one nipped me on the ear. It was, of course, Hedwig. I opened her letter first.

Dear Papa,

Why didn't you say you were famous? They've got books here named after you. And they all thought you were dead! A girl named Michiko Chang-Smith says his mum knew you. A boy called Art Weasley says his dad's family knew you. Art blew up a toilet on the Express!! Anyway, it seems nice here. Professor McGonagall says that this owl was yours so I can have her! She says her name is Hedwig. Is that true? I miss you. Don't forget to feed the fish.

Love, 

A.J.

P.S. A girl called June Longbottom has a toad!!

P.P.S. The Hat put me in Gryffindor.

I smiled after reading A.J.'s letter and remembered to give the owls water. The next one was a brown barn owl.

Dear Harry (you prat),

Thanks a lot for keeping in touch. We thought you were dead!!! How could you do that to us! You'd better come and explain. 

Now I'll be nice and say that when we heard McGonagall say Potter, Albus James Ronald Sirius Remus Hagrid that I felt a lot of pride. Hagrid, of course, burst into tears. In addition, the rest of the room started a burst of excited chatter until the Hat said "Quiet, yes he is the Harry Potter's son." I'm going to have to write Mum and Dad and Remus about all this. Not that I'll have to. Really, you'll have made the Prophet again.

Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger-Weasley.

P.S. Not like he let me write any of it. HGW

P.P.S. Ron's the doctor here and I'm the Arithmancy professor. HGW

I always knew Ron and Hermione would get married someday. But I must say I never saw Ron as a doctor.

Finally I got to the last owl, a nondescript school owl. 

Dear Harry,

I feel I must open this letter with a congratulations on your son and a thank you for the Albus. I must say it did surprise me that you were still alive. I know that it was a terrible assumption that you had died, but by the time we had cleaned up Voldemort and eradicated the last of the Deatheaters we were not able to use any of your belonging for a searching spell. Too much time had passed. You can imagine the shock we felt when the brown haired image of you walked in. 

Harry, it has taken my world, no our world many years to become used to your loss and still people feel like there is something missing. We never got to see our embodiment of courage grow up. It took us a while to understand that is why you left. Everyone has a right to live their own life. You could still come home, Harry.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore.

I look up and realize that I can still go home. For so long A.J. has been my only reason for tomorrow. But I can't live through him anymore. I don't want to make him run like I did. I will make my own tomorrow.


End file.
